Truth
by David001
Summary: An alternate ending to the episode 'Trojan Horse'


**Title:** Truth

**Author: **David

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** What could have happened at the end of 'Trojan Horse'. The angst monster had to come out to play for a little while, but he didn't stink things up too badly this time.

**Category:** Angst, Shipper H/M

**Completed: **September 12, 2005

"If you love him, what I want doesn't matter."

The words he had spoken echoed in Harm's mind; repeating themselves to infinity. It was the truth–a painful truth, but the truth nonetheless.

But that didn't mean he had to like it.

He reached his stateroom and went inside, securing the hatch behind him. Sitting down on the tiny metal chair in front of the equally tiny built-in desk, Harm sighed regretfully and ran a hand through his hair.

Why did love have to be so painful?

He loved Mac with all that he had. It was the simplest and most wonderful feeling he had ever known. Every day that love grew a little deeper, became a little stronger.

Every day that loved killed him a little more.

"Are you trying to drive me into his arms?" She had asked.

Harm rose and went to lie down on his cramped bunk–draping his forearm over his eyes. He grunted, exhaling slowly. The last thing he ever wanted to see was Mac with another man. If it had been up to him the two of them would have been together since Paraguay. But it wasn't up to him, and she had gone to Webb instead.

He slammed his fist into the bottom of the top bunk in frustration. _Damn you, Clay; you know how I feel about her. I thought you were my friend? _

He rolled over, facing the wall. Friend or not, Webb had the one thing that Harm wanted, and Mac appeared to be very happy, so there wasn't much he could do about it.

He sighed in resignation; it was time he admitted defeat. Though he knew that his love for her would never ebb, would never diminish, he also knew that it was too late for him to ever hope that the feelings that he felt for her would ever be returned. At one time he thought she had loved him, but that time was now long past.

_Am I trying to drive you into his arms? No, Mac, you were already there._

A sharp knock on the hatch startled him. "Harm, are you in there?"

He groaned silently; he didn't want to see her–not right now. Maybe if he was quiet she would leave?

It was not to be; a few seconds later, she knocked again. "Harm, answer the door; I know you're in there. We need to talk."

"Go away, Mac!" He shouted. "There's nothing left to talk about."

Thirty seconds past, and he was just about certain that she had left, when her soft voice drifted through the hatch-cover. "Please, Harm, let me in," she pleaded.

Damn her! Harm rolled off the bunk and went to the hatch. Releasing the latch, he pulled it open an inch and then went back to his bunk, flopping down face-first, burying his head in the pillow.

The hinges creaked as she pushed the hatch open, and did so again as she closed and locked it with a dull thud. Her heals clicked on the steel floor as she made her way across the small space. The metal chair squeaked as she pulled it out. She sighed heavily. "Harm?"

He refused to even look at her, and just hugged the pillow tighter instead, saying nothing.

"Come on, Harm, please? We need to talk."

He exhaled slowly. "What is there left to talk about, Mac? I think we've said just about all that there is to say."

She snorted. "Not hardly. No matter how much we talk, there always seems to be more left for us to say."

Wasn't that the truth, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Oh, I think we've reached the end of that road." He rolled onto his back, but didn't look at her. "It's no use, Mac, no matter what I say, I can never say the right thing. It's probably better if we stop talking and try to move on."

"Is that what you want?" She asked quietly.

Harm shook his head. "No, but I don't know what else to do; if we talk about anything other than work we always end up fighting." He finally turned to look at her–she wore an expression of pain mixed with confusion. "I don't want to fight with you anymore, but I can't seem to help myself sometimes." He turned away to stare at the blank wall beside him.

Harm heard her chair scrape across the floor, and his head snapped around to look at her again. He expected to see her leave, but instead she sat down cross-legged on the floor next to his bunk. She laid a tender hand on his arm that he couldn't help but stare at. "Why do you think that is, Harm? Why do you always fight with me?'

He rolled onto his side, facing her. He knew the reason, but could he tell her? Could he tell her that seeing her with Webb–that hearing about it every day was–killing him? He hated it, and every time she mentioned it, he wanted to scream. But it was her life, her choice, and except for the few times that he let his anger get away from him and argued with her, he was trying very hard to live with that choice.

He groaned and rolled onto his back, closed his eyes, and draped his arm across them. "I just want my best friend back," he said. "I want to be able to laugh with her, and talk to her without every conversation degenerating into a battle. I want to be able to go see her just because I feel like it. I want to go running with her in the park on the weekends like we used to. I just want her to be part of my life again."

She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I want all those things too, Harm. We can be that way again."

He shook his head in frustration. "Don't you get it, Mac? I can't have any of those things!"

"Why not?"

He looked at her then, his eyes blazing. "Because just being this close to you is killing me!" He lifted his arm where she was touching him. "Your touch burns me, Mac. It can't ever be the same again."

"Why, Harm?" She asked, her voice heating. "Why do I do these things to you? Why won't you even try to get back what we've lost?"

"Because!" He shouted. "I love you and I can't have you!" His mouth snapped closed the instant he realized what he had said.

Mac's eyes widened in shock. _Great, I've really done it now._ He could only hope the damage wasn't irreparable. "Look, Mac, I'm sorry. I never should have said anything." He waved a hand in the air. "See what I mean, I can never say the right thing!" He looked away.

She squeezed his arm and he looked at her. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She shook her head. "No, Harm, you didn't say the wrong thing." She actually smiled and his heart leapt in his chest. "For once you said exactly what you needed to."

Now he was truly confused. "Mac, you are in love with another man. How could that ever be the right thing to say?"

A single tear traced a path down her cheek. "Because, for once in your life you told me the truth about how you feel. No cryptic responses, or questions answered with questions; just the truth, plain and simple. I've been waiting for you to tell me the truth for so long that I had all but given up hope that you ever would."

Harm reached over and brushed the tear away with his thumb–just like he had done so many times before. "I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you," he whispered. "And I wish I could have done it at a time where it might have made a difference for us, but as with everything important in my life, I waited too long."

Mac shook her head emphatically. "It's not too late, Harm."

Boy, did he ever wish that was true. "Yes, Mac, it is. You are in a relationship with Webb now, and I know how much you care about him; I can see it in your eyes." She turned away, but he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "I got between you and someone you loved once before, and even though I hate to see you with him, I won't do that again."

He exhaled slowly and released her face, letting his arm fall limply at his side. No matter how much he wanted to be with her–and he didn't think there was anything he wanted more–he could still remember the fallout that had come after Brumby had left. Fallout that was all his doing, and he would not risk hurting her that way again.

What she said next shocked him. "What if I wasn't in a relationship with Clay?"

Harm rolled off the bunk and onto his knees beside her, taking her shoulders in his hands. "No, Mac!" He said forcefully. "Don't even think about it. You have a chance at real happiness with, Webb. Don't give that up for me; I'll just screw it up. I'm not worth it."

Mac shrugged his hands off her shoulders and leaned in close, taking his face in her hands. She shook her head. "You listen to me, Harmon Rabb," she said. "You may be a lot of things, but worthless is not one of them." Her eyes blazed with conviction. "It's true that I care about Clay, but damn it, Harm, I care about you, too! You're my best friend. We share something that few people ever do, and it's something that I really doubt Clay and I ever will."

"And what's that, Mac? What is it that you and I share that you and Clay don't?" He was both hopeful and afraid of what the answer might be.

She smiled. "You know, sometimes you are just so damn dense." She leaned in very close, until her face was only a few inches from his own. "You say that you love me. Is that the truth?" He nodded, and she leaned in closer. "Well, damn it, did you ever stop to think that just maybe I loved you, too? Because I do, you know. And the feelings I have for Clay don't even come close to those I have for you."

Harm could not believe what he had just heard. "You really love me?" He asked in stunned disbelief.

She nodded and rested her forehead against his. "For so long it's hard to remember a time that I didn't."

Relief washed through him. This was the last thing he had ever expected to happen. He had been convinced that she didn't care about him at all anymore, and now she had just told him that that belief was false. "So, where do we go from here?"

She sighed. "Well, Clay and I are going to have to have a long talk when I get back..." She paused. "After that, I think what happens next is up to us. But I have a few ideas."

Harm smiled. "I like the sound of that." He pulled back a bit. "You know, I really want to kiss you, but I'm not going to–not until after you and Clay talk. The last time I kissed you when you were still involved with another man, things went to hell, and I won't risk that this time. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do, and you should know that I want to kiss you, too–I have for a very long time." She smiled. "How about a hug? Between two old friends?"

He grinned. "I think I can do that," he replied pulling her into his arms.

A great weight was lifted from his heart as he held her close. He tilted his head to look at her. "Don't think I'm not going to collect that kiss at the first available opportunity," he warned.

"You'd better," she laughed, tugging him close again.

Harm laid his cheek on top of her head, holding her as tightly as he could. Everything was going to be, Ok.


End file.
